


Different Kinda Morning.

by SepiaWhiskey



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Ambiguity, Brothers, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Gangs, Implied Sexual Content, Laughter, Random & Short, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Relationship(s), Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Teasing, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepiaWhiskey/pseuds/SepiaWhiskey
Summary: Dally Winston cannot let the morning go without a little conversation regarding what he heard the other night.[ Darrel Curtis / Reader ]





	Different Kinda Morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Random One-Shot. I fell in love with the character Darrel Curtis when I read it in 8th grade and got introduced to the handsome / talented Patrick Swayze ( R.I.P ) when I saw the movie, falling in even more love with the character and the actor. 
> 
> I'm rambling. Read my one shot.

Dallas just wouldn't stop staring.

 

You supposed the frustrating part of it was that you were the only one that seemed to notice. Darry had his nose in the newspaper and the younger two of the Curtis brothers kept themselves busy with talk about some upcoming movie they wanted to sneak into, and from the way they whispered, seemed like Darry would bar ‘em if he heard about it. Despite this, your gaze didn't have much else to fall on except your cooling oatmeal and the steady simper of that damned Dallas Winston. 

 

You had...eh,  _ gotten along  _ well with Darry last night and a large part of you wanted to check his skin for any signs of this. You knew yourself - knew you had a tendency to scratch of you were getting on good enough. Most nights, you were the one pleasantly scratched up a bit but you'd managed pretty well to maintain the size and length of these blots this time, if you might say so yourself. But with Darry, you didn't know. You'd usually take to checking before you left the room but the boys had seemed adamant in eating so you'd bypassed it, not wanting to look suspicious or have anything come out prematurely about you and him. 

 

Not to mention, you had-

 

“Dally Winston, what has got your eyes so damned fixated?!” You yell suddenly, bringing the entire table to a sudden silence. Darry did not remove himself from the paper, but you took notice through the corner of your eye that his shoulders softly bobbed in what was likely a subtle chuckle. You'd punch him good later for laughing at you the way he did. The boys, however, watched in fascination. That smirk increased tenfold to the point of grinning and Dally adjusted himself in his seat, plate of requested toast untouched. His right hand glides to the breast pocket of his leather jacket and he withdraws a cigarette all at once, teeth flashing in a mocking, leering smile, “Pretty girls get fixated on. Can't help myself, _____.” 

 

You tense when you see Darry strain a bit, legs shifting. There was no way Dallas knew! You had been secretive to the point of frustration and timed every encounter. Every kiss, every affectionate action was coexisting with cautious eyes. You eyed him suspiciously and shook your head, spooning your oatmeal like a dissatisfied child, “You got nothing to mention that ain't worth something except a cowpie, Dallas. Keep your eyes on that toast your wastin’ and leave me be.”

 

He touches his heart dramatically, cigarette more limp in his mouth as he fished for his light, “No need to get  hurtful. Just makin’ honest statements. Nothing that can't be backed up by certain witnesses - eh, Soda?” You look at the second eldest Curtis brother who keeps his gaze down, intensely concentrated on eating out of nowhere, not so much ignorant as ignoring the wide grin from Dallas who curves his head, eyes rolling back to you, “Got a set of pipes on ya when you're gettin’ it good, sweetheart. Straight howlin’!” The man falls into a cackle, falling back in his chair. You hear the sudden tear of the paper in Darry’s hands; your spoon slams against the glassware of your bowl and you feel the oatmeal hesitate direction in your throat. Your face burns and it's a damn wonder you haven't gone on and hit the ground, passed out. You touch your cheek and don't even dare to look at Darry, though the sight of Soda and Pony stifling laughter to Dallas’ antics ain't any damn better. Pony apologizes with his eyes and excuses himself, Soda remaining. Dallas doesn't quit laughing until his lungs won't let ‘im. You stand and see Darry behind the lightly torn paper, red in the face but raging in the eyes as he glares at the man, “Get the hell outta here, Dallas. And you owe me new damn paper.”

 

He stands to make his exit, but not before making a final jab, shrugging with a shit-eating grin, looking at the red in the face Soda who has his head so low you're wondering why it hasn't created ripples in the milk of his cereal by the tip, “Did not take ya for the pet names, Darry. Swear I didn't. But a kid’s only got one daddy in this world and I guess in her case, you're -”

 

“Get out, god damnit!” Darry growls suddenly as you over your mouth in dying embarrassment, hitting for the man who dodges by the skin of his teeth. He fires out before anything else can be said and Soda follows suit with Pony, leaving you in the aftermath of the morning with a simmering Darry. He runs a hand over his hair and looks at you, “You alright there?”

 

“Yeah - I mean, yeah. Just…” You give a breathless chuckle, void of any real humor, glancing up at him when he stands only so many inches away, brows furrowed in honest concern before you give a weak smile, “Just a little embarrassed. And disappointed. Obviously, we’re gonna have to find somewhere else to...get along well with one another. I don’t wanna die knowing I traumatized the youngest Curtis boy. That just ain’t how I intend to go down in the dirt like.” He chuckles to your comment and presses his lips to your in a soft kiss before he targets you with one of the slyest smirks you had ever seen Darry Curtis fire in your direction. You find it difficult to breath properly and he does nothing to help this when he lowers himself a bit to your ear and replies with a guttural growl underlying his words,

 

“Nah. Just means we gotta be a helluva lot quieter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like.


End file.
